


"Um, can I sit here?"

by KellyDeaux



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Additional relationships as the story progresses, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Meet in a café, Others from the show will probably make an appearance too, Tagged characters are just the ones so far, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 18:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8337427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KellyDeaux/pseuds/KellyDeaux
Summary: Clarke and Lexa are forced to share a table at a crowded coffee shop a few times because the shop's so crowded and they're both alone. A slowish burn inspired from a prompt found online.OR the one where Clarke and Lexa go from strangers to friends to something more all because they shared a damn coffee table a couple of times





	1. First Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> For quite awhile now I've been lacking inspiration to write, which in turn led me to look for fanfic prompts. A prompt I idly found online inspired me to make this story―a _ciraeus_ on Tumblr (thank you to the person who found the suggester's Tumblr and emailed me about this!)
> 
> The prompt: 'Forced to share a table at a coffee shop a few consecutive days because the coffee shop is so crowded and they're both by themselves.'

# Chapter 1 - First Encounter

The most popular java establishment in Polis was Grounded Ark Café; it was so populated that around lunchtime, when college students were animated and bustling around before classes like headless chickens for their coffee fix, it was absolutely mobbed. It wasn't just the college students that swarmed the café around lunchtime, though, as there were countless frequenters that worked in nearby office buildings and stores that took their lunch breaks to go grab a cup of java, too. As such, tables filled up quickly, sometimes forcing loners sitting at a table to share.

While the café itself had a comforting yesteryear appearance, that wasn't what kept people returning. No, it was the award winning, turn-you-into-a-coffee-drinker java that had customer's toes curl in sick delight with each sip and return thereafter with goofy, childlike grins plastered on their faces in anticipation. Yes, it was just that good. Or perhaps it was just the reasonable prices and the fact that it was the only café in town… Who knows.

"Hey there, Clarke, you want your regular?" The barista, Echo, asked with a friendly smile on her face.

When she first moved to Polis, Clarke visited the Grounder Ark Café after a late night working, thankful for how ungodly late the café was open to. That fateful first experience led her to become a regular, addicted to the coffee just as much as the people and busyness of the establishment itself. She loved to people watch―an existing trait in all artists, or so that's what Clarke claimed to justify it.

She usually arrived around lunchtime―sometimes a little later and on some days not at all if she was too hung up with work―for her cup of coffee. It was a busier time of day for the café that allowed her to people watch almost undetected while she simultaneously enjoyed a delectable to-go cup of coffee. This, in turn, caused the majority of the servers to recognize her and eventually learn her name and order.

"Hey. Yes, please, thank you, Echo," Clarke replied with a soft smile of her own as she pulled out her credit card from her purse. 

"Coming right up," the barista replied after she rang up Clarke's order, selecting the largest to-go cup available for coffee in the shop, uncapped a Sharpie marker and scribbled Clarke's name along the side before scuffling off to make said brew. 

After ordering, Clarke followed the motion of standing off to the side so the person behind her could order. It was only then that she fleetingly let herself look around the busy coffee shop. It was brimming with people in all sorts of attire, ranging from corporate business―suits and pantsuits with briefcases and stern looks on their faces―to that of someone who just grabbed the closest clothes and threw them on for their coffee fix.

It was so busy and full of life and it made Clarke desperately itch to draw. She stopped bringing her sketchpad and drawing pencils because of how easily she would lose herself in drawing, thereby neglecting work entirely. Unfortunately, it was a necessity for the blonde haired, blue eyed woman to keep herself on task with what time was spent on artwork. 

She was yet another starving artist, looking for her big break. However, unlike many others who sought their breaks through art shows, the blonde worked her ass off as a freelancer, making art pieces for small businesses and shops and for the homes of those who heard about her small self-business. Clarke wasn't a big fan of the art show life or how much time it tended to suck dry of one's personal time. Thus, she made her own path, while still following her dreams.

"Here ya go, Clarke," Echo called out, drawing Clarke from her revere. "Looks like you'll have to share a table with someone. Pretty busy today," the barista noted as she did a quick scan of how busy the shop was.

"Thank you and yes it is," Clarke acknowledged cordially as she took her cup of coffee. Before leaving to find a table, the blonde added courteously, "see you tomorrow."

"Bye," Echo called back, almost as an afterthought, completely caught up in the next customer's order.

Coffee in hand, the blonde's eyes scanned around the café only to be met with confirmation of what Echo said, there were no empty tables. The shop being so packed there weren't any empty tables wasn't totally uncommon. In fact, Clarke had to share a table once or twice, but it was always very awkward to interrupt someone from whatever they were doing just to ask if they minded sharing tablespace.

"Um, can I sit here?" The blonde timidly asked a brunette she spotted sitting by herself at a table. The woman's hair was a cascade of elegant waves, her deep, forest green eyes glued to an open manila folder in her hands. She was dressed casually, a somewhat unusual yet workable cross between professional and relaxed attire.

Clearly startled from her thoughts, the brunette's eyes raised from the folder she was intently reading before to meet Clarke's blue eyes. 

It felt as if the whole world slowed to half speed as they held gazes for a moment before the sitting woman's intense, almost cold, eyes visibly softened and she nodded her head before curtly adding, "Of course."

"Thanks," the blonde said softly, sitting down gingerly with her cup of coffee. She was unable to resist taking peaks at the brunette, finding the woman to be absolutely divine looking, especially when the brunette's brow furrowed together as she looked over her folder with such intensity it could start a fire. 

Somehow they managed to sneak fleeting glances at one another every couple minutes without either noticing what the other was doing. The brunette tried, and failed, to keep her attention entirely on the contents of the folder. Eventually, she decided to split her focus for the duration of the blonde's stay, it wouldn't be the end of the world if it took her a bit longer to read the briefing.

Fifteen minutes or so later both Clarke and the mysterious brunette unintentionally stood from the table they shared at precisely the same time. Unspokenly the two walked towards the exit together, Clarke tossing her empty coffee to-go cup in the trash on her way out. 

Officially parting ways outside―Clarke heading in one direction while the brunette in the opposite―they smiled at one another before trotting off in their respective directions.

For the rest of the day Clarke wondered about the brunette, or more accurately why she felt like a helpless schoolgirl staring at a pretty girl.

Said brunette was thinking relatively the same thing for the remainder of her day, too.


	2. Late Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's certainly been awhile, hasn't it? I've had a super busy several months and a horrible writer's block that zapped my motivation. However, an awesome person and newly good friend of mine, AnonBeMe, has been a humongous inspiration for me to break through the writer's slump. You should definitely check out her stories, they're dynamite!
> 
> Chapter wise hereon, I've decided the very best way to balance the character's lives in the story, especially Clarke and Lexa, is to switch between Clarke and Lexa's point of views. Unless something drastic happens, Lexa's POV will be even chapters and Clarke's odd chapters. I'll be updating this story more regularly now―hopefully at least once a week.
> 
> This chapter picks up a bit before the end of the first chapter. Initially I wrote it that way to help me get started writing, but when I proofread it felt like it belonged, so I've kept it.
> 
> Oh, I almost forgot… I also now have a Tumblr, TheKellyDeaux, if you want to get into contact with me outside of the story for questions/comments/miscellaneous :)
> 
> Enjoy!

# Chapter 2 - Late Night

### LEXA’S POV

Lexa stole a glance at her watch, noting that her break time was coming to an end; she would have to return to work soon. She dedicated the next couple of minutes to a few fleeting glances at the unnervingly pretty blonde sipping coffee in front of her before she rose from her seat―coincidentally the same time as the aforethought blonde―to leave.

The two women left Grounded Ark Café at the same time, going in opposite directions.

With the manila envelope that she was engrossed in at the café in hand, the edge of which was biting into the tender flesh between her index finger and thumb, Lexa headed in the direction of work at a brisk walking pace, weaving around busybodies along the way. She worked as a mobile app developer for Trikru Coalition―a small, yet growing, business that focused on creating and customizing proprietary apps for other businesses and corporations based on their respective needs.

“Oh, you’re also cutting it close, huh?” A familiar voice queried from somewhere behind Lexa. A beat later the owner of the voice, a tall and petite woman with dirty-blonde hair, strode in step beside Lexa, a wicked grin lifting the corner of her mouth. 

“One would think you would have learned by now,” Lexa quipped, sounding as serious as she could muster up, though ultimately failing to suppress the humor in her voice. Evident in her eyes was a devious glint of humor, too.

“Oh. My. Gosh. Alexandrie-damn-Woods, are you implying that _I_ , the ever-right-and-perfectly-perfect Anya am apart of your woeful misconduct?” Anya mocked playfully, mimicking a higher pitched, almost squeaky voice. To add to the theatrics, her step-sister feigned despair by placing a hand dramatically over her heart. 

Lexa made a face between a scowl and a wince after hearing her full first name. She loathed her first name―’Alexandrie’―for oh-so-many reasons. One huge contributor to her contempt for the name was the fact that for nearly three years it was all her stepmother, Indra, called her. The woman was too kosher and concrete in her mannerisms to ever consider calling Lexa anything but her proper birth-given first name.

A poorly quelled snort of laughter bellowed from beside her―from her stepsister Anya. The decibels of sound had the same peculiar, squelchy sound most associated with cola erupting from someone’s nose. Thankfully it wasn’t a cola-nose-explosion, though she would have probably laughed herself to tears at Anya’s expense if it were.

“Oh, my dearest sister,” Lexa joked, bumping her hip into her stepsisters, the preppy attitude voiced aloud polluting the air, her eyes screaming with mischief. “Why, yes I am, _Annalise_.”

From the corner of her eye, she seen Anya grate her jaw silently a couple of times, almost as if she were mulling something over in her head. Before long the tension in her jaw was replaced with a small smirk tugging at the corner of Anya’s mouth furthest from Lexa’s line of sight. “Low blow, Lex,” Anya spoke alas, her smirk growing still yet.

“Mh. You had it coming and you know it,” Lexa retorted with a chuckle before shoving Anya once more; Anya chortled along in unspoken agreement, shoving her playfully back. 

The two frequently walked back to work together, ribbing one another with high-spirited wordplay the whole way. It was a ploy used to deter them from thinking about how close they were to clocking back into work―back to the too-chilly temperatured building, back to their mauve-colored cubicles with their fancy computers and techie gadgets and whatsits.

Their lighthearted, playful banter began waning the more pronounced the building’s logo―a breathtakingly detailed tree of life sprouting a fancy, Celtic-font-looking T―became. The metallic design of the logo shone from the sun’s rays like a diamond ring. 

It was the telltale sign that they needed to replace their sisterly joking with the level of seriousness the two knew was appropriate for their jobs. Anya, like Lexa, worked for Trikru Coalition, but was a mobile visual designer, not an app developer.

“You still working on the Mount Weather Researcher app?” Anya asked as she held the door open for Lexa. Even though the two were working on different apps more times than not, they would still talk―usually complain when after hours―about them. How else were they supposed to not spontaneously explode with some of the clientele they had to work with? 

“Yes,” Lexa replied and huffed out a breath as she walked through the doors to the familiarity of her workplace. She was greeted first and foremost by the wonted whoosh-whistling sound from the building’s old, on-the-brink-of-extinction air unit, followed thereafter by the distant sound of phones ringing and murmuring voices.

Lexa sighed softly, her fingers fiddling with the manila envelope, the object that had become an enemy. “Dante and Cage Wallace changed the deadline.”

Her sister glanced at her, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion, “Yeah, you told me this already the other day, Lex.”

“They have changed it again,” the brunette supplied, stress seeping into her voice like water over wood that had yet to be waterproofed. The initial projection end date agreed upon by the two companies was wintertime. It was to be an expansive, complex app that would house everything the Mount Weather Researcher had ever published, including all the cumulative speculations, sightings, and outsider contributions. 

The Mount Weather Researcher is a magazine-slash-newspaper―or ‘zinepaper’ as Lexa and Anya jokingly coined it one night after far too many glasses of wine; the company couldn’t quite seem to keep up with the medium they wanted to write in, apparently, so they mashed the two together somehow. According to the Mountain men themselves―yup, they call themselves ‘Mountain men’―they are a ‘critical-thinking’ magazine-newspaper meant to prepare people in the advent of an apocalyptic emergency, all the while claiming it to be in the name of science. In real, normal person speak? Well, in a nutshell, they’re a bunch of greedy nut jobs yanking on people’s coin purses, selling the next apocalyptic-esque hoax they can get their grimy hands on in the form of science experiments and statistics.

“When do they want it by now?” Her stepsister asked, more than a little peeved by the fact that the sector Lexa worked in―the one that was working on the Mount Weather Researcher app―was being continuously strong armed and bullied. The ‘Mountain men’ were known for their unyielding ruthlessness and cutthroat attitude when it came to business. Their reputations, apparently, were not exaggerated.

If only Lexa or Anya or any number of people outraged by the Mountain men had been in charge. If that were the case, if any of those individuals were in the seat calling the shots, the contract that was drawn up between Mount Weather Researcher and Trikru Coalition would not have happened because there would have been no meeting for it to be discussed in the first place. Leave it to Nia―the lead overseer of the mobile app development and visual design teams―to bag a whack job company.

“A month from yesterday,” the brunette answered, letting out a breath laced with exhaustion. Since the timetable adjustment announcement, Lexa had been working nonstop to metaphorically glue together the bits and pieces of her portion of the project together. That meant when she wasn’t at work, she was likely at the Grounded Ark Café working or reviewing the outline of what Mount Weather Researcher wanted, flabbergasted still that Nia accepted the damn job.

Anya let out a low whistle, “Ouch that’s definitely gonna be tough.” The two were on the building’s small elevator, ascending to the third floor.

“No shit,” Lexa said dryly, glancing aside at her stepsister for en

“Pft, you got this kiddo,” her stepsister amended, nodding her head as if to agree with the statement she just voiced aloud.

The brunette responded, unconvinced, with a grunt. Thankfully, the doors to the elevator opened, meaning the two had to go their separate ways. 

“Talk to you later, Ayn,” she said with a wave before heading off in the direction of her cubicle. Anya had shot her a final small smile―gone just as quick as it had appeared―followed by a wave and dashed off in a different direction.

∞∞∞

Later on―sometime in the evening after spending far more hours on the app than she thought was humanly possible―Lexa stood from her desk and stretched. The muscles in her body protested audibly, various crackling sounds leaving dull aches in its wake. 

A quick peek around the room confirmed that she was likely alone, darkness everywhere but her cubicle. She had said goodnight to a handful or so of her coworkers when they headed out, but it was mostly absentmindedly done. She had made a larger dent in her portion of the app, of which she would show Nia tomorrow.

For now, though, Lexa needed a pit stop at Grounded Ark Café before heading home and straight to bed. Every molecule and fiber of her being ached for coffee. It wouldn’t hurt to see what unhealthy-yet-scrumptious bakery items were available at this late hour, if any, seeing as she hadn’t eaten anything in a good long while.

Lexa turned off both her computer and work phone before tidying up her work space a bit. She threw out empty water bottles and crumpled pieces of paper that she had thrown idly into the bare corner of her desk area hours ago. Thereafter she shut the drawers alongside her desk that had been left haphazardly open and watered the little plant her stepmother bought her eons ago―when she first got her job at Trikru Coalition. Finally, she slid her wheely chair under her desk and turned off the light to her work area.

The journey from her desk to the front door was pretty quick. It was a short walk to the elevator, which she rode down to the front lobby, meandering out of the building―though not before saying goodnight to the friendly security guy, Samuel.

It was the end of spring―quite literally days away from the nature-awakening season’s end for the year. Thus, being greeted by gentle wind gusts kissing her cheeks upon exit was no surprise to Lexa, nor was the air being wonderfully clean and crisp. Spring for the brunette always represented gorgeous scenery and easy breathing during her daily runs. It was a season in which a person could genuinely appreciate watching life bloom before their very eyes day-by-day. A season full of blooming life and positivity at the end of the many rain showers.

The walk from work to the café felt quicker than when she was returning to work from her lunch break. However, Lexa held steadfast to the opinion that leaving―or ending―something was usually quicker than arriving―or starting; said logic had yet to fail to be applicable for her. It was a strange way of viewing life, as if the glass was both half full and half empty at the same time, but it worked for her.

Even though it was night, well after eleven, Grounded Ark Café was still relatively busy. Within the walls of the café were customers there for a plethora of reasons, from regular night owls to college students studying late to workaholics taking a coffee break to everything else in between.

“Hi there, welcome to Grounded Ark Café. What can I get for you this evening?” A tallish man with red hair that was slicked back with more gel than was used in the movie Grease said. He had a friendly smile that flexed the freckles that littered his cheeks, chin, and nose. The name tag pinned to his navy blue work vest read ‘Aidan Jameson’.

“Hello. I’ll take a medium decaf coffee with lots of cream, please,” Lexa responded curtly. She withdrew her debit card from her wallet that was housed in the pocket of her dress pants. Unfortunately the bakery portion of the café was closed for the evening, as indicated by the ‘closed’ sign above its section of the café. That dissolved her hopes of having any kind of baked good or café sandwich for a late dinner. She decided to just make something at home later on, instead.

“Coming right up,” the barista replied as he swiped Lexa’s card. Once she was handed her card back, Aidan grabbed the medium sized coffee cup with deft hands and set out pouring Lexa’s coffee.

Since there was a momentary lull or two until being given her drink, Lexa surveyed the café. Not quite as insanely busy as it was at lunchtime, but still filled with people. Being that the coffee shop was in walking distance from Polis University and the only café to remain open unbelievably late, it had a steady stream of business majority of the time.

It appeared that a bulk of the café goers were college students, all of whom harbored weary yet studious faces half-hidden behind brightly lit laptops and mounds of textbooks. Of the rest, one small group of twentysomethings looked positively tipsy, nursing their coffees. There were also a few oddballs that didn’t class in the ‘college student’ age range, didn’t appear to be intoxicated or studying. Probably workaholics getting their much needed java fix.

“Here’s your coffee, ma’am,” Aidan said to get Lexa’s attention. Since her back was to the redhead, he―thankfully―missed the way her face initially contorted into a grimace at being referred to as ma’am. Even though it was a respectful and socially accepted term, she loathed it more than Superman loathed Kryptonite; it was demeaning in her eyes.

Lexa ensured her features were schooled by the time she turned around to face the barista. She nodded her head ever so slightly as a polite and silent ‘thank you’, her expression stoic, as she retrieved the cup of java from him. 

Having her coffee left her at a fork in the road: stay or go? She could stay, casually sit awhile and sip her coffee, or make her way home. 

Polis was a heavily populated city, always congested with cars and buses and general traffic. After years of living in the city that was constantly astir, Lexa learned to appreciate public transportation and walking to majority of the places she wanted to go instead of driving. Driving meant finding someplace to park―a shockingly complicated thing in an overwhelmingly crowded city. 

The telltale _’ding’_ from the front door of the café distracted Lexa from her pondering. She sighed and made her way to the last vacant table, wedged between a college student diligently working on some sort of history paper and the group of tipsy twentysomethings. 

The combination of the semi-rowdy chatter from the tipsy twentysomethings and the low murmuring―indistinct, but not any less annoying―from the scholarly college student, Lexa couldn’t make out the music being played overhead; hell, if she wasn’t a frequenter of the café she wouldn’t _know_ there was music at all. The conversation between the barista who served her coffee and the new customer was also obscured by the distractions around her.

Despite the distractions, Lexa returned to the contemplation of how she would get home. Unlucky for her, it was far too late to take the bus, leaving her to either have to walk or call one of her step siblings―who were also her roommates―to pick her up. It was a nearly three mile walk home, which normally wouldn’t be bothersome. However, she was wearing business casual clothing, which definitely wasn’t the most comfortable attire to walk home in.

For the first time since getting her coffee, Lexa takes a sip. She expected the same rich and creamy undertones accompanying the powerful, luscious notes of the guarded secret Grounded Ark Café coffee. That’s the way it always was.

Expect the barista apparently lacked gumption when adding cream to her order, resulting in the harsh, dark liquids rushing down her throat without the usual accompaniment of relief from the creamer. It lacked creamer to the point that it couldn’t be tasted at all.

Like a baby trying a lemon for the first time in its life, Lexa’s face contorted exaggeratedly, brows furrowing together in dislike. She breathed through her nose and concentrated heavily on keeping herself relaxed to avoid gagging or spitting the awful swill out. She tried to ignore the awful, bitter aftertaste lacing her pallet as she looked disdainfully down at the cup of coffee.

She grabbed the cup of java and rose from her seat in annoyance swiftly, whirling on the balls of her feet elegantly…

…Only to crash into the side of the person who had chosen that precise moment to pass, unaware, alongside her. Lexa collided with the woman’s extended elbow, the unsuspecting passerby knocking the wind out of her unintentionally.

The sheer surprise of the situation in addition to the wind spontaneously being knocked out of her, Lexa staggered backward a step awkwardly, stumbling right back into the chair she stood up from with a loud _thump_. Somewhere along the way the coffee cup got forgotten and dropped from her hand, landing on the floor beside her.

“Ohmygod, Raven! Are you okay?” Lexa heard someone exclaim concernedly through her shocked state as she sat on her soon-to-be-sore ass. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Clarkey. We should be more worried about freaking Speed Racer, here,” a voice responded, huffy. Lexa deducted it was likely the person she accidentally rammed into based on the surprise and snarkiness lacing the stranger’s voice. “Like what the hell, dude, you got a hot date or a bug crawling on you? Sheez.”

Lexa lightly pressed in on the tender spot where she got elbowed and was rewarded with a sharp, fiery stab of pain at the location. She grimaced a bit and grit her teeth against the pain. What was worse than the pain? The fact that she still had to interact with whoever the hell she hit, a conversation she desired to cease as quickly as it was beginning.

“I apologize. I didn’t see you,” Lexa admitted while shifting subtly in her seat to test what pained her. A mighty discomforting, pulsing ache cascaded from the lowermost region of her back to her arse then to the backs of her thighs. 

She wasn’t surprised by what ached. The backs of her thighs hit the edge of the chair at an odd angle and with such force that it left no doubt in the brunette’s mind that it would leave a gnarly bruise and presumably be sore for days to come. Her back took the brunt of the abrupt end to centrifugal force, ramming into the chair with what leftover momentum had been built up. Her ass, akin to her back and thighs, was just along for the painful ride.

“I’m hoping you wouldn’t have rammed into me if you _had_ seen me, champ,” the woman Lexa hit retorted, lighthearted playfulness lacing her words. Perhaps Lexa had misjudged how dreadful the conversation with the passerby would be.

"Rae! She hardly 'rammed' into you," the initially concerned voice replied with a soft snort. Lexa looked up in time to be met with the most gorgeous blue eyes, the ones of the alluring blonde she sat with at lunchtime.

It was apparent that the blonde hadn't actually _looked_ at her until their eyes just met because Lexa spotted recognition flash across the blonde's face before settling in a neutral expression, though present was the subtle hint of a smile tucked away at the corner of her lips.

The present ghost of a smile from the blonde caused an internal debate within Lexa. Her heart reasoned that a little harmless flirting wouldn't be such a bad idea. Especially considering the possibility that perhaps seeing this same pretty blonde not once but twice within the span of a day was a sign. In contrast, the brain argued to not poke the hornet's nest; it rationalized that the conversation between the two women over the collision had so far been relatively tame and keeping potential conflict-causing dialogue to a minimum might be the best approach.

Even though the battle between her heart and her head raged on internally, her mouth apparently wanted on part of it and knew the secret to winning was to blurt whatever hits the lips first.

And that's how she heard herself say, "We meet again," while her traitorous lips formed a gentle smile.

"So we do," the blonde replied with a full blown smirk.

"Um, what the hell did I miss?" Raven asked. She must have waited a beat or two, but before Lexa knew it the woman was ribbing the blonde with her elbow, "Hello? Earth to Clarke? Y'in there, Clarkey?"

"Ow! Fuck you, Raven!" The blonde responded with agitation, shoving at the woman.

"Ye-uck, pass! Ya _do_ realize we're siblings, right? Well, by extension we are. After Mama G signed the adoption papers I became your big sister," the raven haired woman retorted smugly, crossing her arms as if to defend against any attacks.

"You're literally only three months older!" Clarke whined with an exaggerated pout.

"Still older," the other woman retorted with a victorious chuckle.

Lexa figured the drastic change in conversation with the two women was her cue to exit. Thus, she shifted forward in the seat a little and balled her fist against the pain that spiked from the movement. She placed her elbow on the table and leaned on it quite a bit to help ease some of the pressure off her pained back thighs.

"Woa, hey, you need help?" Lexa heard one of the two say right before she could haul herself up to her feet. She didn't trust herself to speak, suspecting that her voice might give way to how mortified she was, so she simply shook her head.

"Uh, Rae, how about you go get our coffee?" She heard the blonde say.

"But what ab―" Raven began, but didn't finish her sentence, only backpedaled. "Coffee, right. Um, I'm gonna go get those coffees now." Lexa wasn't looking at either of the women, her eyes more interested in the marks on the coffee table, but she could take a wild guess that the blonde glared her friend right out of the conversation.

"I'm Clarke," the blonde said, and this time Lexa looked up at her, green eyes meeting blue. The woman, Clarke, had a serious expression on her face, as if she were concentrating on completing a challenging crossword puzzle or something.

"What?" Lexa asked meekly, knowing full well that the woman before her just offered her name. She just didn't understand _why_ and that bothered her a little; she was a critical, logical thinker―the kind of individual who strove to uncover and understand all possible puzzles. Clarke was definitely a puzzle.

Clarke cleared her throat before replying, "I said: I'm Clarke."

"Lexa," the brunette replied. She didn't take her eyes off Clarke, even though fatigue was starting to set into her arm―the one that was still flexed with partial weight propped on it still.

"Well geez, aren't you talkative," the blonde muttered lowly, assuming it would go unheard by Lexa; it didn't. "Do you need help up?"

"No, I'm okay. Thank you, Clarke," the brunette replied, her eyes up to this point still glued on Clarke. Putting together the fact that she was basically staring at the blonde, Lexa looked away, focusing back on the marks on the coffee table. She swore that before her gaze left Clarke's, the woman smiled.

"Okay then. Well, maybe I'll see you around, Lexa," Clarke replied. Hearing Clarke say her name winded Lexa quicker than Raven's elbow to her chest; it was positively euphoric, like the woman saying her name had granted her the ability to breathe again after a lifetime of feeling like she was drowning. Of course it really wasn't that way, it was just the way the woman enunciated the 'L' a little stronger than the rest of the letters that sent chills down Lexa's spine, but it was still pleasant nevertheless.

Refusing to give up the opportunity to say the woman's name one last time, Lexa smirked and said as the blonde was mid-turning to walk away, "May we meet again, Clarke."

Clarke turned her head, looked back at Lexa―green meeting blue once more―and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me about Clexa, fanfiction, or anything in between! You can reach me on Tumblr (@TheKellyDeaux)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, stay tuned for more! Meanwhile, please let me know what you think, or if you have any suggestions for future chapters you can email me at _KellyDeaux@hotmail.com_


End file.
